


what all the troubles are for

by thegatorgood



Category: Santa Clarita Diet (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-22
Updated: 2018-08-22
Packaged: 2019-06-29 22:58:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15739032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegatorgood/pseuds/thegatorgood
Summary: "Hey," the gas station attendant said, "you're the Hammonds, aren't you?  From TV?  You killed all those people?""Aw, jeez," said Dad, and pulled out the gun.  "I didn't want to have to do this again."





	what all the troubles are for

**Author's Note:**

> FOR #1, WHO ASKED FOR AN AU WHERE JOEL, SHEILA AND ABBY DO HAVE TO GO ON THE RUN AFTER ALL. IL THE IDEA AND I'M SORRY IT'S SO SHORT.

"Hey," the gas station attendant said, "you're the Hammonds, aren't you? From TV? You killed all those people?"

"Aw, jeez," said Dad, and pulled out the gun. "I didn't want to have to do this again."

Abby stared at her dad. Then she rolled her eyes, swept some snacks from the shelf into the shopping basket, and ran out to the car. She held the door open for him but he so did not deserve it.

Mom already had the car running and she peeled out of there without needing to be asked. She was better at this outlaw stuff than Dad was, but that wasn't saying much.

"You don't always have to go for the gun," she told Dad as Dad struggled with the seatbelt. "You could just be like, the who? That's weird, _I_ haven't heard of them. Dismembered body parts in the backyard, wow, that is all kinds of fucked up. Instead, they mention the Hammonds and out comes the gun."

"Don't be too hard on your father," said Mom. "He tried."

"No," said Abby. "He didn't. That was kind of my whole point." She ripped open a bag of chips and popped one into her mouth. "Whatever."

Mom honest to god _pulled over_. "Did you pay for those?"

"Mom!" said Abby. "The girl back there might have already called the cops on us!"

"Oh, right." Mom pulled back onto the road with a squeal of tires. "That doesn't let you off the hook, Abby. You can't just steal things."

"I was hungry and Dad whipped out the gun before I could pay for anything. Again."

"It's not your father's fault," said Mom fondly. "We have got to stop sending him in to do the shopping. You're just too handsome, Joel. Everyone recognizes you from your police painting."

"Thanks, honey," said Dad, looking a little sheepish and very uncomfortable as he put the gun away. Down the back of his pants, which Abby knew you weren't supposed to do, but it wasn't like it was loaded. "You're quite the looker yourself."

"Fine," said Abby. "Mom goes with me next time, we don't end up hightailing it out of there, and there are no free Starbursts."

"You got Starbursts?" Dad asked. Abby gave him the pack. "Thanks, sweetie."

"Joel!"

"Although it would have been just as great if you'd paid for them."

Abby rolled her eyes and her mom must have seen it in the mirror, because she added, "You could have thrown down a twenty before you left. You said your dad had his gun on the attendant."

"I really wasn't thinking about it," said Abby. "I was thinking about getting out of there before the police showed up."

"Next time, do think about it. We may be on the run from the law but we are not petty criminals, young lady. If you eat something, you pay for it."

Abby was paying for it. Her random sweep of junk food had gotten her Cool Ranch-flavored potato chips with, ugh, low salt _and_ low fat. They tasted terrible but she ate every last one as a matter of principle.

-

They holed up in a motel room for the night. No one said, "Hey, aren't you that family who killed all those people?" Possibly because the TV was turned to a channel that spent their entire check-in discussing how lizard people were running the government and something about fluoride being used as a mind control agent.

"Oh my god," said Abby, when they unlocked the door, "it feels like we're in a horror movie or something."

"They do have free wifi," said Mom. "And the AC is working."

"Yeah," said Abby, flopping down on the bed closest to the bathroom, "but the clerk looks like he has someone's taxidermied corpse waiting for him at home."

Dad rummaged through the cart of stuff Abby had "stolen." "Why don't I make dinner?" And, using a microwave that looked like it was older than Abby, and one of the pyrex pans they'd taken from home, he made what might have been the laziest nachos in history out of a can of refried beans and a bag of Doritos. They should really hit up a real grocery store before she or Dad got scurvy, Abby decided.

"Our ill-gotten gains taste great," she told Mom, before she could say anything.

Dad cleared his throat. "How's your foot, honey?"

"It's funny," said Mom, "but it reminds me of that time your mother took us out to that French restaurant right before we got engaged, do you remember? There was a cheese that tasted like this."

She chomped down on a toe. Abby decided it was time to check in with Eric.

"You did what?" he asked, when she told him about their latest run-in with the law.

Et tu, nerdus? "I don't get what's such a big deal about it. I mean, Dad pointed a gun at someone's head for the tenth time, but somehow I'm in trouble for grabbing a can of Pringles."

"Because," said Eric, his face in the Skype window so worried it was almost cute, "in west Texas pulling a gun out is like saying, 'Hi, I have a gun!' But if you pull a gun out and take stuff they put you in jail for years."

"It was just a bunch of junk food!"

"So what, Jean Valjean? Armed robbery is armed robbery."

Abby huffed. "Look, I'm already an accessory to murder, it's not like armed robbery is going to make things any worse."

"It makes a long sentence even longer and reduces your chance to get out early for good behav-- yeah, never mind," said Eric. "But you're all okay?"

"Yeah. No more deterioration, and in this heat that's a good thing. Mom and Dad are doing pretty well, even if they do suck at this whole Zombie and Clyde thing."

Eric nodded. "And you?"

She shrugged. "I mean, I wish we could have stayed in Santa Clarita, but there's nowhere I'd rather be. They're my parents. Even if they are totally weird about this. I guess it's good they never found out about my shoplifting phase."

"Your _what_?" 

Oh, right. They were still in the room. 

"Shit," Abby muttered. "Gotta go, love you, talk to you later."

"Wait, wha--" Eric was saying as Abby closed her laptop and ran outside for some fresh air.

-

The next gas station was so dusty and decrepit Abby wasn't sure it was still in business. They definitely didn't sell vegetables here.

"Why don't we go to a real grocery store?" she asked.

Mom sighed. "We do need the gas. Besides, this is Texas. I'm not sure how many grocery stores we're going to find."

"Actually, Whole Foods started in Texas," said Dad. "We could even visit the original in Austin, if we keep a low profile."

"Yeah, let's hit that up. Mom, you can try some free-range, grain-fed hipster."

"I think he just wants to go to Austin for the pot," Mom said as they went in to pay for the gas. She plunked some twenties down on the counter and waved at Joel outside the window so he knew to start pumping.

Abby looked around the store. All the snacks were covered in dust. She found a jar of peanut butter with a best by date of next month, but no bread that wasn't super stale. There was some cans of fruit that weren't bulging, and some canned olives. They had silverware in the car and saltines and Pepperidge Farm cookies from the last place they'd accidentally hit up, so Abby figured they'd be okay.

She dumped everything down on the counter and was handing over the cash--after counting it out for Mom's benefit--when attendant's face froze.

Abby grabbed the bag of food from his outstretched hand as he stared. What? She'd paid for it.

"Is there something wrong?" Mom asked.

The attendant's face unfroze long enough to say, "You're that chick. From the TV."

Mom laughed nervously. "No, I'm not an actress. But I do get that a--"

"The murderer," he said. And then, "There's a reward for you."

" _Murder_?" said Mom. "What murder? There was something on last night about a man who dresses up as a moose and--"

The man came around the counter. He was huge, Abby had seen that before, but he seemed even huger now. He must have weighed more than both of them put together, and it wasn't all fat. Abby's grip tightened on the bag's (plastic! They still used plastic bags out here! And why was she noticing this now?) and began to back towards the door, silently willing Mom to follow.

"The murders out in California," he said, looming over Mom. Abby looked around for a weapon. She could probably lob the cans at him, but she was near the bread rack and she was pretty sure that by now the loaves were harder than steel. "With all them bodies cut up."

"You think I look like her?" Mom took one step back, then another. "That's actually kind of flattering, she is pretty cute--"

The man's hand shot out and grabbed Mom's arm before she could go any further.

Abby grabbed some Wonderbread that felt more like Wonderrock and was about to throw it when Mom said, "Will you please let me go?" Still smiling.

And the man said, "There's a reward."

Mom stopped smiling. "Oh, well. I tried." And then she lunged forward and sunk her teeth into his throat. His carotid artery, to be precise, because it was spurting blood everywhere and Abby had spent way too much time with Eric over the last few months and knew these things now.

Abby sighed and headed out to the car to hand Dad the groceries. "Looks like we're not the only ones who were hungry," she said. "I'm going to take the cooler in."

"Sweetie," said Dad, "I think I should be the one to help your mother dismember and store a human body."

"Sure. Does that mean I can drive?"

Dad winced. "Take the cooler in."

It was totally unfair. They were _never_ going to let her drive.

Mom looked up at her when she set the shop bell jangling again. "Oh, thanks," she said. "Can you check if they have any wet wipes?"

They didn't, but they had rolls of paper towel and it wasn't like paper towel expired. The plastic bags behind the counter came in handy for storage purposes too. (And if Abby swiped some money from the still-open cash register, well, she was already in enough legal trouble and it wasn't like the shop was going to need it.) 

Then Dad came running in. "There's a car approaching!" he said. "Or something kicking up a bunch of dust in the east!"

"Darn it," sighed Mom, and they all heaved the cooler into the back of the car. 

They kicked up a bunch of dust too as they drove. Mom tried to clean herself off with the paper towel and some bottled water. Dad muttered, "Stay cool, stay cool," to himself as he powered out at a completely lame seventy five miles per hour. Abby kept watching the car behind them--which passed the gas station without stopping and then thundered past them on the road so fast you could barely count all its confederate bumper stickers.

"Well," said Mom, "that could have gone worse. At least we paid for it this time."

Abby stared at her for a second before collapsing with laughter. "Oh my god, Mom," she said. "You just pulled a dine and dash."

"That's not the same thing," said Mom. "And put on your seatbelt!" 

Abby did, but it totally was.


End file.
